Twist of Fate
by XKuro47X
Summary: Now that Dean's back from hell, Sam shouldn't be so broken anymore. But Dean won't tell him anything and he's just bottling up everything to the point where he's not quite the same person anymore. They're both broken. It also doesn't help when Sam realizes that he's in love with his brother, and how Dean was acting was killing him.


Sam sighed and rolled his eyes. He took his cup of beer, hands gripping tightly on the handle and took a long chug of the alcohol. He felt his throat burn as he swallowed it, his throat quickly feeling dry afterwards.

He looked back at his older brother, a few tables across from him, flirting with a pretty brunette, and glared at him. They stopped by at this bar to relax for a little bit, have some drinks, and then research about a guy's death at a town in Ankeny, Iowa and later hit the road again, but his brother however, had other plans.

Sam yelled, "Dean, get over here!"

Dean looked at him and scowled. He turned back to the girl and murmured something to her. She nodded and took out a piece of paper and pen and scribbled on it. Then she gave it to Dean, gazing at him seductively. Dean smirked and took the paper, putting it in his pocket. Then he went over to Sam and sat beside him.

"So what'd you find?" Dean asked in a pleasant tone, clearly in a good mood. He called the bartender and ordered a drink. Sam stared at him in disbelief. "We were supposed to be researching about Michael's death and you're just there flirting?"

Dean chuckled and looked back at the brunette who was chatting with her friend. He turned his head and looked at Sam.

"Come on Sammy, live a little. Stop being such a nerd and maybe you'll get laid." Dean took the piece of paper the brunette gave him and waved it around Sam's face, flaunting it. He laughed loudly and put it back in his pocket.

Then he grabbed his beer and took a sip. He swallowed the bitter alcohol and gave a sigh of satisfaction.

Sam rolled his eyes and sighed. "Okay, so Michael was slaughtered inside his house. Locked doors and windows and every other possible way of getting inside, so I guess we're dealing with a ghost here."

Dean nodded in agreement. "A ghost huh. That'll be a piece of cake."

Sam shrugged and glanced at Dean, who was checking out girls a few tables from them. Sam had just recently found out about his feelings for Dean. At first, he was freaked out and tried to deny it, even tried ignoring his brother to stop these feelings for him.

But he quickly gave up on the idea since they're together 24/7 and the fact that they have to communicate with each other when hunting to make sure they're both safe.

Now, he accepted it and decided that he is never telling Dean that he's in love with him. He knows that he has no chance whatsoever with Dean. It was a painful indubitable truth. Dean was as straight as a ruler, going from one girl to the next.

And it hurts, seeing him with them. Everyday, he has to fight the urge to not cry whenever he sees Dean flirting with girls.

The way Sam waits for him to come home, no matter how late, he stays up and waits. He wouldn't be able to fall asleep anyways, not when he's worried sick about Dean.

When he hears a faint sound of heavy, unbalanced footsteps near the door of their room, he rushes into his bed and pretends he's asleep. He hears the creaking noise as the door opens and Dean ambles into the room drunk, smelling of booze and sex.

And Sam, waiting for him to come home, pretending he's asleep at those moments, cringes as the aroma of a woman's strong perfume lingers in the air, filling the room.

After Dean gets in bed, he waits for him to fall asleep, waiting for the soft snoring and the breathing to even, and that's when everything crumbles down.

That's when he can take off the mask he wears everyday, pretending to be alright, and just silently cry.

Cry about everything that's happening.

How he hates that Dean doesn't think he's good enough for anyone or anything. How he loathes himself to the point where you think he's destroying himself on purpose.

He hates the fact that if he didn't exist, Dean would probably be happy. Way happier than he is now. There wouldn't be a burden for him to always carry throughout his life. Because that's what Sam was. A burden. A responsibility, a problem that Dean's forced to take care of.

But Dean, being the kind guy he was, never complained about taking care of him. Sam has never heard Dean complain about tending after him, which makes Sam feel even guiltier.

Sam remembered when Dean sold his soul to a demon to bring him back. Sam doesn't know whether to laugh or punch Dean at his stupidity. Sacrificing his own life for Sam's worthless life was an idiotic thing to do.

Dean's life was much more valuable. The angels even dragged him out of hell because they needed him.

Angels needing a human to save the world, that should give you a clue on how his life actually is very valuable, unlike Sam's to the contrary, where he had been teaming up with Ruby, using these psychotic powers, and drinking demon's blood for god's sake.

But what had been the most aggravated situation for him, beyond the shadow of doubt, was trying to spend life in Dean's absence.

Sam recalled how he was without him.

Lost. Depressed. Miserable. Dead. He was like a living zombie, unable to display emotions, dead on the inside. The first few months without Dean was a mess.

Sam tried to get him back, tried everything. Summoning demons into making a deal with him, into trading places with Dean.

He would beg them whenever they declined his deal, hoping they'd have a change in mind and accept. But to his dismay, they would always decline and would start taunting him. One of the so called "great" Winchester, actually begging to a demon. But Sam didn't care.

He just wanted to die, join Dean in hell and suffer with him if he must.

There were times where he would consider suicide, grabbing a knife and piercing it into his skin, finally being able to feel something, even for a split second, and slowly fade into the darkness.

But then he remembers why Dean died. So Sam could live. And he wouldn't want to waste Dean's sacrifice.

So, he tried to carry on with his life.

Then Dean came back, and he didn't know what to feel. He was happy, so happy that Dean's here, alive and breathing, but he was also scared to death.

He was scared because during life without Dean, Sam realized that he didn't have brotherly feelings towards his sibling. It was so much more than that, and he's scared Dean might find out about it.

But the Dean now, is different from the Dean before.

Now, Dean was too wrapped up in alcohol and sex. After finishing a hunt, he doesn't even bother to rest. He goes straight to clubs and bars and spends hours there, then would finally go home with a hot chick and fuck her brains out.

He's never once talked about hell and how it was down there.

And Sam's worried. He knows this was all to forget everything that happened to Dean in hell. That happy, carefree mask Dean wears will always be a mask.

He's broken inside, and Sam hates that.

He wants to help his brother, but he can't. And these feelings aren't much help either. They just screw things up more.

Sam's thoughts were interrupted when he heard Dean shout beside him.

He gazed around the room, panic striking him, trying to spot some demon or ghost, but relief rushed over him as the scene before him was peaceful and happy.

Sam glanced at Dean who had both of his hands up in the air, fists clenched as he shouted with victory, grinning widely, his eyes twinkling with joy.

He followed Dean's gaze and saw the football game on tv, the audience cheering happily as one of the team scored a goal.

_'So that's what he was shouting about'_ Sam shook his head and chuckled.

_'Dork'_

* * *

_Thank you so much for reading Chapter 1! I apologize if it's not very good, I'm just a beginner at writing ^^_

_I hope you liked it, and chapter 2 will hopefully be coming soon. Please review!_


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